Suppressing a desire
For centuries commuted
Ferried about
Twixt the rage
And the frustration
Via the complication
Of our blackness unheard and unseen
Except through
Crosshairs white and blue
Until control held sage
With fury slips out
Only to be persecuted
For the fire

Tonight at dVerse Linda challenges us to write a Quadrille, is a poetic form created here at dVerse, a poem of exactly 44 words (not counting the title) and including this challenge’s prompt word: SLIP

Given sweet release, on a sultry nightOne hears the morning bird’s song, I close my eyes and breathe deepIt bans the darkness, heeding ganja’s callSleep a hazy memory, in the aromatic flushBright music waking the soul, all coherent thinking lost

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Tonight on dVerse Poets Pub Mish challenges us to flush things out in a quadrille – a poem of exactly 44 words not including the title. One of those 44 words must be the prompt – flush..

As I worked this out I realized I was on the path to creating a Super Tanka, so I just went with Muse and combined both. And being that today is 4/20 my mind naturally went to ganja’s call…

LIFE
living
existence
one day at a time
for the rest of your time
trying to be at one's best
'because the alternative sucks'
CHANCE
fortune
in fate's hand
opportunity
it's not in your control
what turns the wheel, guides the die
'life, the moment your eyes open'
DEATH
finite
infinite
it is what it is
for as long as we're here
It's not as long as we're gone
'it is the great equalizer'
PAIN
anguish
agony
in body or soul
and oftentimes in both
you bear the unbearable
'it's what lets you know you're alive'
FAITH
belief
conviction
the ultimate trust
is the substance of hope
evidence of things not seen
'all that I have left in me now'

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It’s Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub and a join in with a Clarity Pyramid poetry form for National Poetry Writing Month.

I am not Catholic, but I like the basic idea of Lent. Well, my interpretation of it anyway. The idea of sacrifice, of giving up something. Sometimes, I’m surprisingly good at it.

The year I gave up chocolate was stunningly easy by the Friday after Lent started, Snickers candy bars and I separated from our daily habits. Separated to the point, that once Lent was over, I didn’t pick the habit back up again. It was not a conscious decision, I simply stopped.

On the other hand, the year I attempted to give up my potty-mouth…? I woke up at 5am that Wednesday morning, and by the time I reached work at 8am that same morning – well… Let’s just say, the the less I say about that bullshit the better.

Then was was the year I gave up meat. Not just beef and poultry, seafood as well. I good thing right? How is it I wound up in Atlantic City for a friends birthday for a weekend in early April. A weekend that included an All-You-Can-Eat Seafood Saturday at one of the restaurant. A restaurant where the ONLY thing that did not have some form of flesh in it was a salad. Not the salad, that might have indicated choices. No it was literally A single salad, for the rest had some form of meat mixed in. There was something like seven different salads available. I could only eat ONE in the entire buffet. My friends thought I was insane as I stuck to my miserly guns as they cracked open crab leg after crab leg after crab leg. I was proud of myself, because I did not cave. For any of you who read may have read my About Raivenne page – you know how I suffered.

This year it was junk food.

Because yes, leave it up to mean to give up comfort food the year of Coronavirus. At work it would have been easier. There I have to make an effort to get up and go to the vending machine or the concession stand if I want to munch. I did not realize how much garbage I consumed daily until I noticed had a little something of a surplus in my finances. Thanks to self-isolation that bump also included how much I have saved by not being able to go to Starbucks..

From the files of Good Deed/Unpunished : Lent started on Ash Wednesday as always – my order of Girl scouts arrived that Friday. The following week I had to give away a cake because I could not eat it. I also was gifted a variety snack box of the chips. And because Fate and than wretch Karma like having fun, I was reminded by a friend that it is technically 46 days of no cakes or chips or cookies or…or…or…because why not?

Every single day I glared at the Thin Mints, Dipsy Doodles etc mocking me from atop the refrigerator, and the Häagen-Dazs giving me the cold shoulder for ignoring it in the freezer. All the while thinking to myself how they were going to be Alllll Minnnnnne. Oh I relished sinking my teeth into the salty savor of chips, the sweet goodness of butter pecan, come Easter Sunday.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the Junk food.

Easter Sunday came and went and I have yet to touch any of it. Not even to sniff the plastic.

They say it takes 21 days to break a habit, a minimum of 90 to break an addiction. It’s now Tuesday night, 48 days since Ash Wednesday and I just started thinking about it. Now I wonder if my junk food days are behind my like Snickers. Let’s see how long it lasts.

This is the only true terror to be
The blinking cursor that moves not one space
Or those ruled lines that scream to be penned on
A page that’s blank, while pen is full scares me
Thoughts clash around in ambiguity
Those wisps of words, so close within my grasp
Yet I cannot make heads nor tails of it
This is the only true terror to be
Sometimes mere scribbles are all that I see
But at least there is hope for something more
Empty eight by elevens have no chance
A page that’s blank, while pen is full scares me
This is the only true terror to be
For someone whose whole life depends on words
A page that’s blank, while pen is full scares me
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Yes, all of the world is a stage my friendsAt least it is told what the people sayFrom when we begin until our time endsOur too brief ride held in Sol’s sweet swayAnd it matters not what part we will playFor as prince or pawn is roll of the dieAt Act I, Scene I: curtains rise: we all cry

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Tonight at dVerse Frank challenges us to “is to write a poem with seven lines.” For those who want to go a further we are challenged to make it like a Chaucerian stanza/Rime Royal – is a seven-line poem in iambic pentameter with a rhyme scheme of ABABBCC.